


Coffee Stains Upon Your Heart

by Claire



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2011-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-23 16:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They meet here on the first of each month...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Stains Upon Your Heart

They meet here on the first of each month, in an out of the way coffee shop that's away from prying eyes. (Not that the others would walk in here, even if they knew. Hank tries to stay away from caffeine after that night in the lab that he keeps trying desperately to forget, and Alex and Sean keep gleefully reminding him about, and Emma refuses to set foot in any place where the coffee beans haven't come out of the arse-end of a marmoset first.)

So, here they chose, with the fading paint on the walls, the soft jazz in the background and the waitress who always seems to be behind the counter, her nametag declaring her as _Mary_ and the quiet hum in the back of Charles's mind declaring her a mutant. (It's not that she hides it, she just doesn't talk about it. When she was a child, she used to have dreams of flying, of swooping through the skies and making sure she never went too close to the sun. But she can't fly. She can't spread any wings, and she can't carry herself through the clouds. So she doesn't mention it. Not because she's afraid or ashamed, but because it's not what she dreamed of. So she smiles at her customers and chats to her regulars and lets the plants murmur to her as she walks past.)

Erik arrives first, as he usually does, and orders for both of them, collecting the drinks as soon as he feels the soft brush of Charles's mind against his. (He tells Charles it's because the last time Charles got there before him and ordered for them Erik ended up with a drink that seemed to be made of mainly froth topped with whipped cream and sprinkles, but it's not exactly the truth. He knows the only reason he arrives early is to make sure they get the table with the easiest access for the wheelchair, the one where Charles doesn't have to dodge chairs and or get blocked in by the people on the surrounding tables. What Erik hasn't yet realised is that Mary always makes sure it's free on the days she knows they're coming in, subtly directing other customers away from it until she sees Erik approaching from across the street. He also hasn't realised that the only reason Charles ordered that drink was to watch Erik suck the whipped cream off his fingers.)

Once they're there, the first few minutes are filled with small talk. Filled with Charles asking how Raven is, with Erik checking the other inhabitants of the mansion are all okay. (Erik's response to Charles invariably starts with telling him how good Mystique is getting at mimicking people after she's only seen them for barely a second or two. He doesn't mention what she uses this more honed ability for, doesn't mention the forays into government buildings and the stolen plans. And he certainly doesn't mention the people she leaves behind, slick trails of red following her. He doesn't need to. What he says instead is, _And I think she and Azazel are getting closer._ What he doesn't say, what he never says, is, _She misses you._ The _And I do, too--_ lies unspoken on his lips, as well.)

Charles tells Erik about how Alex's control is getting better, and how they've gone through less fire extinguishers in the past month than they ever have since Alex moved in. He tells him about Sean and how he's started dating a young lady who lives in Westchester, tells him about Hank and how they had to have the entire east wing fumigated last week after one of the experiments Hank was doing went a little wrong. (He doesn't tell Erik that he finally moved the photo of the two of them off his bedside table, that one that Sean took when neither of them realised he was there. The one with Erik leaning back against one of the trees in the grounds and Charles with his head in his lap, reading as Erik's fingers carded through his hair. The one that Sean had given him, developed in Hank's lab and framed, slight flush on his cheeks as he'd handed it over, as though he'd been unsure of Charles's reaction, as though Charles could have done anything other than love it. The one that sat on his bedside table until Charles couldn't look at it any more, finally moving it to one of the drawers to hide among papers and books and a tub of Vaseline that hasn't been opened in weeks. Charles also doesn't tell him he put it back three days later.)

The chess board doesn't come out until later, the first round of empty cups being cleared away by Mary to make room for the board. Charles plays white, as always, and leads with his king's pawn, an opening, Erik has noticed, that Charles tends to fall back on when he has things on his mind. (The last time Charles opened with that move, the thing on his mind was Erik, and the images he was trying to distract Charles with - soft light, a softer bed, and Charles's lips wrapped around a certain portion of Erik's anatomy. They never had finished that particular game, lost instead to the touch of skin against skin and to the frantic scrambling that had happened when the bottle of red wine had been knocked off the table as they'd all but fallen to the floor in their haste to get closer. There's still a slight stain on the carpet that Charles notices every time he goes past it; a small patch of fabric with a red tinge to it that makes Charles remember the heat of Erik's body against his. He's never bothered to get it removed because he says the entire carpet would have to be cleaned and it's just not worth the inconvenience of getting everything removed from his study to allow someone to do that. He's also never needed his telepathy to hear the lie in his voice because, as long as the stain's still there then at least he knows it was real.)

Erik wins this game, capturing Charles's queen and putting his king in check with one move. Erik's assurance that this win means he's leading Charles is met with an amused chuckle and the insistence that they're about equal, even if Erik doesn't want to admit it. (They're both more than aware that they're not talking about chess, not now. Maybe they never have been. Erik takes Charles's bishop off the board and asks how Havok's ribs are, and whether he's fully recovered from Riptide spinning him into the wall that last week. He's fine, Charles tells him; it was just bruising that went down after a few days. Charles counters by taking Erik's queen, picking the piece off the board as he considers asking after Ms Frost, and if she's realised the futility of trying to get inside Charles's mind or if she's still nursing the psionic hangover from when he'd forced her out after the last time she'd tried it. He considers it, but the chess piece is heavy in his hand and, in the end, he doesn't say a word.)

It's hours later when they finally leave, Erik throwing a soft goodbye over his shoulder to Mary as he opens the door for Charles and Charles pulling his jacket around him to ward off the slight bite in the air before rolling himself onto the street. They don't say goodbye; they never have. Instead, Charles's lips are soft against Erik's and Erik's fingers cradle the back of Charles's neck, their foreheads resting against each other as Erik crouches next to Charles.

It's long moments until they part, long moments until Charles heads in one direction and Erik heads in another, each step taking them closer to Professor X and Magneto. And when they do part, Erik doesn't wrap his mind around the metal in Charles's wheelchair until he can't feel it any more and Charles doesn't float on the edges of Erik's mind until distance fades it into nothing. There's a day in the future when they do, though. A day in the future when Erik holds on to Charles's wheelchair so he can't leave and Charles reaches out and brushes his mind across the only other one that's ever reached back in every way that matters. A day in the future when one of them asks and the other one answers and they both realise the only way they can do this is together. But, until then, a small coffee shop down a side street, in a town that neither of them talks about, keeps their silence.


End file.
